


A conversation after Supper.

by Gothicsouthpaw30



Series: Bilbo and Bofur's relationship from courtship and onward [1]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bilbo/Bofur - Freeform, Gen, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-08 22:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothicsouthpaw30/pseuds/Gothicsouthpaw30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People really liked this one story so I'm going to lengthen it for a few chapters to give other's something to read while I continue to work on my 'Feyd' Saga</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Most of them had taken their leave; some heading toward the green dragon and some going to wherever they had set up camp.

Bilbo couldn't help but feel deep relief as they each, bowed and thanked him for his hospitality; forced as it had been.

"Please," Gandalf gently pleaded, "Do think about it Bilbo."

Bilbo rolled his eyes and held the door open for the old wizard, saying nothing as Gandalf's shoulders dropped and he left behind a disappointed sigh.

He's a persistent fellow," observed a smooth, lyrical accent and Bilbo turned to see Bofur leaned against the wall.

Observing the hobbit with his bright eyes he offered a soft smile.

"I almost didn't come me self. But Bifur wasn't to be deterred, not after Gandalf said he could very well do away with the Orc that buried that hatchet in 'is head."

Bilbo closed the door, wondering if the dwarf meant not only to drain his last keg of ale, but also to stay the night being as how he was the only dwarf to remain in his ransacked hobbit hole.

"An Orc…did that to him? You're related?" Bilbo inquired, suddenly nervous under the charming dwarf's gaze.

Bofur nodded. "Aye he's my cousin, Bombur and mine I mean. He was at Moria with me father," He explained, "and with another of my kinsman. We're still surprised he survived that wound. When he's lucid, he speaks often of gettin' revenge."

Bilbo cocked his head; "You're not here for your own gain?" He asked, "You've come just because of him?"

Bofur shook his head and drained his mug.

Turning and heading to the kitchen he continued over his shoulder: "Not exactly, if we can see this through, the reward I get can help me and the remainder of my family out. But, aye, Bifur does needs to be watched over…that axe heats up his already foul temper."

Bilbo paid no mind that the dwarf walked through his smial as if it was his own home, suddenly very curious about him.

"How many are there?" Bilbo asked as Bofur washed his mug in the tub that had been used earlier to clean all of the dishes the dwarves had soiled during their long, unexpected visit, "In your family I mean. If it's alright that I ask."

Bofur chuckled and set the mug aside to dry. "Let's see," He began as he started to count on his fingers, "There's Bifur, Me, Bombur, Bombur's wife and his twelve children~"

"Twelve!?" Bilbo exclaimed with a laugh, "Sounds stressful!"

Bofur laughed and shrugged: "I'm a good uncle," He explained, pulling his pipe from his leather jerkin, "And they are good lads and lasses all the same! What about you?"

Bilbo hesitated. "Huh?" He asked and Bofur smirked. "'ave you any kin, Like sisters or brothers…a wife?"

Bilbo chuckled while he blushed. "Resolutely single and an only child," He explained, "My parents have passed on while most of my kin are only of distant relations."

Bofur looked at him, his eyes sad. "Don't ye get lonely?" He asked, "Bein' in such a large home with no one to keep ye company?"

Bilbo shrugged, suddenly wanting Bofur to stay longer so they could converse further, regardless of how late it was.

"I like my solitude-shall we go into the study?-If I get lonely I find a way to satiate it."

Bofur followed and took the seat opposite of Bilbo in the homely den, loading his pipe as he did.

"You're not married?" Bilbo asked, and seeing Bofur shake his head, chuckled.

"That surprises me," He confessed, "Truly."

Bofur lit his pipe and slouched; "I get that a lot. But like I said, with a younger brother and his children, and a half-insane cousin…it keeps me busy, you see. Besides, our women are few and far between. Plus, toy makin' doesn't fetch enough profit in a way that would cause anyone to take attention."

Bilbo sighed and stared into the flames that roared and crackled in his fire place. "Nor does tutoring once or twice a week," He offered, and Bofur chuckled suddenly.

"Tutoring?" He asked, "You're a teacher?"

Bilbo shook his head. "I'm a stand in," He explained, "I tutor the children of lower class families; When their children are having more troubles in certain areas; reading and such."

Bofur smiled. "You educate, and I entertain," He observed, watching as Bilbo smiled softly, "Yet neither you nor I have children…funny isn't it?"

Bilbo became nervous again and wondered, suddenly, if Bofur had meant to delve further into his life with his last statement.

Bofur smiled at Bilbo's, his eyes shining as if somehow Bilbo had answered him without the use of words.

"It helps havin' all those nieces and nephews," He continued to joke, "I can test me toys thoroughly!"

Bilbo chuckled and continued to stare into the fire and for a while a silence passed between the hobbit and the dwarf.

"Yer thinkin' about goin' aren't ye, lad?"

Bilbo startled and gazed at his guest.

Bofur, having finished his pipe, waited patiently for his host to answer.

"Um…w-well…that is to say, I-I don't know," Bilbo replied, secretly admiring the adorable way Bofur cocked his head and smirked.

"It would be quite a change fer ye I imagine," He explained, "A Halfling tutor in the company of dwarves. The vulgarity you'd hear alone might be a risk to your sanity."

Bilbo scoffed; "I'm more than comfortable with vulgarity!" He protested, "After all, I did put up with the lot of you tonight!"

Bofur sniggered and rose to empty the ash from his pipe into the fire. "Avoided us is more like it. But I can see how that would be a way of puttin' up with us. Ye weren't too pleased with our belching contest."

Bilbo blushed and countered; "Well, you all did clear out my pantry! I didn't think, even dwarves, could eat so much!"

Bofur let out a guffaw and came back to sit across from the hobbit with the same youthful shine in his eyes.

"We left ye some crackers," He chortled, "and if it makes ye feel better, I was rather pleased with the food. No wonder hobbits eat so much!"

Bilbo couldn't help but smile, rather enjoying Bofur's innocent humor.

"And Thorin?" He asked with a smirk, "The poor King only took some soup I managed to whip up…without any of you noticing!"

Bofur waved his hand dismissively. "Thorin's an arse hole!" He confessed, and laughed heartily again when he saw how slack jawed Bilbo became.

"You didn't seem to think so when he made that quip about me being a grocer!" He joked, "I saw how you laughed!"

Bofur smirked and slouched in his seat; "Can ye blame him or I? Ye certainly keep enough-well, kept- enough food to be considered such."

The two sat in silence again before Bofur let out a yawn and stood. "I best be off," He explained, "never a good idea to leave Bifur unattended for too long."

Bilbo nodded and rose from his own seat to escort the dwarf to the door.

"It was nice, visiting with you," Bilbo offered as Bofur put on his cloak and offered the hobbit a low bow, "I dare say, you're more civil than most of them."

Bofur chuckled and, to Bilbo's surprised, leaned in and tapped his forehead lightly against his.

"I imagine some civility was needed after all o' that," He replied, "G'night Master Baggins."

As he began to leave Bilbo reached out and caught the dwarf by his arm.

Bofur waited for him to say something, gazing at him with soft and patient eyes.

"Do you think I would do the company any good?" He asked, "Or do you think I should stay behind?"

Bofur hesitated and looked Bilbo up and down as curiously and gently as he did when Gandalf had earlier described how Bilbo would and could be an asset to the group instead of a burden.

"We all have our place," the dwarf finally remarked, "What ye will choose will be of yer own free will. I…out of my…gratitude fer ye, would think it wise fer ye to stay behind but at the same time…Ye haven't tossed that contract away. While were thrown together, mind you, we do look out for one another."

Bilbo bit his lip, saying nothing and only nodding a quick thanks as Bofur finally departed.

Finally alone, Bilbo went to where the contract still lay and took it into his hands.

He was simply a tutor; living off inheritance and biding his days with lessons, long walks, and friendly chats with those he felt no attachment to; this, the question laid out before him, was something he'd never known.

He was someone he'd never known.

Bilbo wondered, did Bofur stand out amongst his company, or did he only stand out to him?

What was it? What had he felt when the dwarf, nearly crushed by the rest who'd tumbled into his home, looked up at him and offered a friendly and embarrassed smile.

Bilbo sighed and dropped the contract back on the table.

He needed to sleep.

Forsaking his pajamas, the hobbit crawled onto his bed and curled into a ball.

The image of a youthful smile and soft hazel eyes staying at the forefront of his mind as sleep came seeking him slowly and peacefully.


	2. Chapter 2: Songs and Slumber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly, some people have asked me to make this a 'courting' fic. Being that I'm still trying to plan out 'Feyd' to be better than "The B & The E" ...I thought I'd entertain that idea. Bilbo is having trouble sleeping on the first night out, away from Bag End and Bofur decides to comfort the out-of-place hobbit.

After Thorin had sauntered off, after damning the pale orc Azog, Bilbo had gone back to his spot and laid down in the hopes sleep would soon follow.

The snores of Gloin were hard enough to deal with, but the constant bite of the chilly wind was the main cause the Shire hobbit could not fall into, if anything, uneasy slumber.

Sighing, Bilbo curled into a tight ball and resigned himself to the possibility that sleep would be unknown to him this night.

But it was the gentle placement of a new blanket that both comforted and stirred him; looking up, the dwarf offered a soft smile and wink. 

“Bofur?” Bilbo asked softly, “Don’t you…won’t you be cold?”

Bofur’s smile deepened and he shook his head; his braids jutting and bouncing back fourth as he did, “Nah,” He explained softly, “My turn to keep watch and we dwarves don’t feel the cold as deeply as other folk.” 

Bilbo, enjoying the extra, and needed, warmth smirked. “I am bit pampered,” He confessed, “Never camped a day in my life.”  
Bofur came and sat beside where the hobbit lay and pulled his flute from his jerkin. “Nor I,” He replied, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when Bilbo cast him a surprised expression. 

“I thought you traveled with Thorin?” Bilbo said, “Ever since Erebor.” 

Bofur, whom had begun to place the flute to his lips, dropped the instrument into his lap and gazed at the hobbit in bemused shock.

“How old do ye think I am, lad?” He inquired with a wide grin, “I was born in Ered Luin. Me parents and Bifur were the ones who came from Erebor. I’m not nearly as…wizened as Thorin.” 

Bilbo blushed at his mistake and bowed his head; “I apologize,” He offered softly.

“Don’t-no need,” Bofur interjected, lifting his flute again, “Not many understand our aging process. I think, if I had to think about it, in human years I’d be about…well, possibly in me mid-thirties or early forties.”

Bilbo moaned in reply before offering: “Then consider me in my mid-thirties.” 

“I gathered,” Bofur confessed, “Do ye mind if I play?” 

Bilbo looked up and observed Bofur with his flute poised at his lips, and shook his head. “By all means,” He ushered, “It might help me sleep.” 

How long Bofur had played the soft melody, Bilbo couldn’t be sure. But it was a lovely tune; a lullaby if his ears did not deceive him. 

Silently, Bilbo couldn’t help but wonder why the dwarf had chosen such a tune and his heart fluttered nervously when he wondered if Bofur had meant specifically, to place him self close to Bilbo as he played it. 

Whatever the reason, by the time the night air grew silent, save for the crackle of the dying fire and the distant song of crickets; Bilbo half-listened as Bofur was relieved of watch by Gloin whom took his place.

He barely felt the dwarf slide under the blankets next to him and though he was perplexed by the action, he enjoyed the warmth of another body. 

Just as slumber finally seemed to begin to claim him, Bilbo remembered the tingle of pleasure that coursed through him as he felt the warmth of Bofur's breath glide gently across his cheek as Bofur followed after him into a peaceful bliss. 

Bilbo was not bothered at all to find Bofur’s arm draped limply about his waist. What pained him, secretly, had been having to pull away as Thorin began to wake them just as the sun began to rise upon the horizon. 

As He sat up, Bofur's eyes fluttered open and he greeted the hobbit with a barely visible smile.

"Ye talk in yer sleep," Bofur said as he sat up; yawning loudly as he stretched for a long moment. 

"Really?" Bilbo asked as he rose from his feet: "What did I say?" 

Bofur, replacing his beloved hat atop his head, shrugged.

"Just one little word," He explained just as the rest of the company began rising and grumbling about varying subjects, "I think it was 'closer'."


	3. Chapter 3: The trouble with Garment Gifting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is confused as to why Bofur seems so angry with him and Nori takes it upon himself to educate the hobbit on one of their courting customs after things come to a head. (Not my best chapter but, meh! I hope y'all enjoy :-) )

“Ye did not ‘ave to speak to ‘im like tha’!” 

Bilbo, whom had been waiting for so long for his chance, had drifted into sleep and awoken when he heard Bofur’s angry, whispered protests.

“I spoke the truth nothing more,” Thorin countered softly, though his tone was threatening.

Bilbo lifted his head slightly and caught sight of the two of them.

Bofur stood before a seated Thorin; his hands were balled into tight fists and even in the darkness of the cave, Bilbo could see the sneer upon the toymakers face.

Thorin eyed him with cold, piercing eyes yet remained silent and stoic.

“Are ye tryin’ to make ‘im go?” Bofur asked shrilly, “Even if he did listen to yer…yer cruelty, fer ‘im to take leave now…he’d be killed! Mahal, Thorin! He saved us from bein’ roasted like pigs on a spit! Doesn’t that tell ye he’s worth keepin’ around?” 

Thorin leaned his head to the side and observed Bofur for a moment before replying: “If he hadn’t had failed in his task of freeing the ponies…we wouldn’t have come so close to being the evening meal for those idiot trolls,” a cruel smile danced on the kings lips, “And if not for me…that hobbit would have fallen to his death tonight. Would that have pained you Bofur?” 

Bilbo watched as Bofur moved to speak, his mouth parting slightly but shutting slowly. 

“That has nothin' to do with it!” He spat angrily, turning on his heels and walking away from Thorin who looked rather pleased with himself. 

“Concern yourself with your own safety,” Thorin advised Bofur whom vanished, “and continue your watch.” 

Bilbo dropped his head slowly; feeling utterly defeated and devoid of any hope for earning a place amongst the company. 

Listening to Thorin adjust himself comfortably, Bilbo decided more firmly than before, that he’d made a mistake that only he could correct. 

~~~~~~******~~~~~~  
Bilbo noticed the change in Bofur's demanor almost instantly.

To Bilbo’s dismay, Bofur’s usual sociable demeanor turned into nothing but short replies whenever the hobbit tried to engage him in conversation as they’d begun their journey down from the carrock and through the rotting forest, Mirkwood. 

Was he angry, after all, that he had tried to leave before the goblins had attacked them. 

'That has to be it,' Bilbo thought desperately, 'After all, he did vouch for me when no one else did!'

“Don’t worry,” Gandalf had reassured him, “Bofur is only jealous. Most dwarves are rather possessive of the ones they care about.” 

Bilbo had looked up in confusion at the old wizard then; “What do you mean, jealous?” He’d asked.

Gandalf had merely offered a soft smile and patted Bilbo’s shoulder without another word on the issue.

Not knowing what else to do, Bilbo had said very little to Bofur even after their arrival to Beorn’s. It made him ache when Bofur shared silly stories with the other’s and not him. 

It devastated him when he realized Bofur had chosen a bed far away from him and he would be forced to sleep, if he could at all, next his massive brother Bombur whom, he’d been told, had a tendency to roll over onto others in his sleep.

The worst happened as they all sat around Beorn’s gigantic table sipping ale and enjoying their time of relaxation the evening before they were to depart. 

Thinking Bofur had set his bitterness aside, Bilbo was initially overcome with joy when the dwarf sat down with a plop next to him and offered him an inebriated smile.

“So what did ye think Biiiiilbo!” He chortled, taking a sloppy gulp from his gigantic mug, “C’mon ye can tell me!” 

Bilbo, his cheeks going red, looked around the table at the other’s that had grown uncomfortably quiet, before asking softly: “How did I like what?” 

Bofur sniggered and splashed the ale in his mug about onto the front of his jerkin without reply; he only collapsed in a fit of giggles.

“You would do well,” Thorin warned the drunken dwarf from where he sat, “To mind your manners in this place Bofur.”

Bofur snorted and threw his hand up at Thorin; “Shut up!” He barked, catching several startled glances, “I wasn’t talkin’ to ye! Now…Bilbo, I asked ye a question lad! How’d ye like it then?” 

Bilbo bit his lip and looked nervously at Gandalf whom was busy whispering to Thorin who then looked over at Bofur and he, the king smirked and nodded before he rose from his chair slowly. 

“Bofur,” Bilbo said softly as he brought his attention back to the swaying dwarf, “You’re drunk. Keep your voice down, please. I don’t want you to get into any trouble.”

Bopping his forehead roughly against the hobbits, Bofur whispered cruelly: “Did ye like it when he held ye?”

Bilbo went slack jawed and before he could protest, the dwarf gave a startled yelp as Thorin hoisted him to his feet.

“Let’s have a talk, toymaker!” Thorin hissed, “Outside.” 

Watching Thorin stumble with Bofur outside, Bilbo then looked over the troubled and shocked expressions of those that remained behind in stunned silence.

“Excuse me,” Bilbo offered as he rose from his chair hurriedly, “I think I’ll go to bed.” 

As he prepared to try and sleep, to try to forget the events that had just occurred, a voice suddenly came from behind him.

“It’s alright,” Nori explained, “Bofur just…He gets that way when he’s over done himself.” 

“I don’t understand any of this,” Bilbo confessed as he faced the most secretive of the dwarves, “I don’t understand what he meant…or why he is so angry that Thorin hugged me.”

“He’s not,” Nori explained, “He’s not mad at you. But he is jealous and He’s hurt. You see Bofur…Bofur fancies males…and I think he’s got a bit of a crush on you.” 

Bilbo felt his entire body tingle in a mixture of both astonishment and, he dared to confess only to him self, joy.

“So…He thinks that I…prefer Thorin?” 

Nori shrugged; “You didn’t get it did you?” the dwarf asked as he scratched his large ear, “When you forgot your handkerchief I mean?” 

“My handkerchief?” Bilbo asked, “What about it?” 

Nori moaned and rubbed his eyes; “I told Bofur that you might not get it,” He explained, “Our customs are different!” 

Filling with impatience, Bilbo stamped his large, furry foot and demanded: “What about my handkerchief?” 

“He tore off a piece of his own tunic for you to use,” Nori explained, “And you took it.” 

“So?” Bilbo said, his hand going into his trouser pocket, gripping what was inside as though it was a precious jewel, “He was trying to help.” 

Nori smiled and chuckled then; “Oh yes he was,” He agreed, “but he was also flirting.”

Bilbo’s eye widened and he clapped his free hand over his mouth; Nori grinned and waved a hand dismissively. 

“Garment gifting, that’s what we call it and it’s an old, silly custom,” He continued, “a piece of clothing, kept, is an indication that the person gifted such a thing is interested. He’d started to worry that you weren’t interested after all, and when he noticed how happy you were to be held by Thorin…I don’t know, I think he was humiliated. That’s happened a lot to the poor fellow.” 

Guilt swam over a Bilbo and he dropped the hand that had covered his mouth, limply at his side while the other continued to grip the torn piece of tunic in his pocket.

“I humiliated him?” He sighed, “Oh…I didn’t mean to!”

“You didn’t know,” Nori pointed out, “Now you do. When he comes back in…maybe you can clear things up.” 

Bilbo gasped; “What’s Thorin doing to him?” He demanded, “He seemed so…infuriated!”

Nori chuckled and turned to go, “don’t worry,” He explained with a laugh, “ Thorin was offended but more than likely…he’s just putting the fear of Mahal into Bofur. Thorin can’t abide being disrespected.” 

After Nori had gone, Bilbo laid on his bed roll, pulling from his pocket, the piece of clothing Bofur had gifted to him months ago. 

His emotions were in turmoil. Joy and relief, guilt and despair. It was absolutely nauseating.

Bilbo had long since admitted that Bofur was quite attractive. With his warm personality and protective nature, the hobbit had found it hard not to resist him.

But Bilbo, the hobbit confessed to himself as he lay on his small bed, had been afraid. Nori was right; he understood little when it came to the rules of dwarven courtship. 

He only knew the ways of his own kind and he’d been hesitant to invite Bofur on private walks and, Bilbo couldn’t help but smirk, what would such a strong and burly dwarf think when being presented with flowers?

Listening to the commotion that had begun again amongst the celebrating dwarves in the opposing room, tears burned at his eyes and Bilbo curled into a tight ball; certain he had lost his chance at whatever adventure he could have had with the kind dwarf now being threatened by his king outside. 

~~~~~~******~~~~~~

When the arm wrapped about his waist, Bilbo had started to struggle, certain Bombur was about to crush the life out of him. 

“’s alright lad,” a familiar, wonderful voice whispered, “’s only me. I traded with Bombur. I talked to Nori.” 

Bilbo, without really thinking, clasped the hand that rested against his flat belly, and sighed. 

“I still have it,” He quickly admitted, “The cloth you gave me.” 

Bofur hummed, pulled Bilbo close, and nuzzled his nose into hobbit’s curly hair. “I’m sorry,” The dwarf whispered into Bilbo’s ear, “I didn’t know that ye didn’t know. I jumped to conclusions when Thorin hugged ye. Silly thing to do, really. Thorin tends to be quite the womanizer when the mood takes him.” 

Bilbo chuckled; “I thought so,” He admitted, “He gives off that impression.” 

Bofur moved his hand from the hobbits waist and gently stroked the hair from the side of Bilbo’s face before tracing the back of his large hand down Bilbo’s soft cheek. 

Bilbo rolled onto his opposing side to face the dwarf. For a moment, Bofur’s large hand resting on his hip, the two stared at one another before Bilbo asked: “I’m curious…what else would you have done, if you’d thought about, to see if I was interested?” 

Bofur grinned; “I considered the old Punch- in- the- arm and running away gag,”

Bilbo couldn’t help but chuckle at the joke and it was he whom then slid an arm under Bofur’s and he nuzzled close against the dwarf’s chest.

“So ye…ye do feel the same then?” Bofur asked softly, his hand again coming up to play with Bilbo’s hair.

“Mmm,” Bilbo moaned, “Of course I just…I didn’t know how to show you.” 

“How would ye have…if you had wanted me to know that is?” 

Bilbo looked up at Bofur then; lifting himself up onto his free arm, he pulled the other from underneath Bofur’s and the dwarf didn’t stop him when Bilbo gently traced a finger down the soft whiskers of his chin. 

Without hesitating, the hobbit pressed his lips against Bofur’s as gently as he could. After a moment he broke the embrace and resettled himself against the dwarf’s chest.

With a soft smile Bilbo explained: “Like that.”


	4. Chapter Four: Love & Lamentation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo saves the dwarves-again-and after recovering from his illness in Lake Town, he is overcome with the fear of the impending meeting with Smaug and of course Bofur is the only one to really comfort him.

What privacy they could have after the night in Beorn’s house had been few.

Bilbo counted the moments He shared privately with Bofur more precious than the ancestral treasure Thorin, above all else, wished to retrieve from the dragon once they arrived at the Lonely Mountain.

But the time came when He had feared those fleeting moments would be all that he would have of Bofur.

In their time together since they had confessed their hearts to one another, it hadn’t taken Bilbo long to realize that Bofur had claimed his entirely. 

Just when he thought all would be well, after he’d fought his way with ring sword through the threat of the massive spiders that had assaulted them, the elves had come.

For the first time, Bilbo had never felt such resentment toward the mystical race that had so intrigued him in his youth as they struggled to bind the one that held his heart within his own. 

Bilbo had slipped on the ring and narrowly escaped capture; but there was no relief or comfort from this as He watched the guards force Bofur away from him.

As Bofur, cursing and struggling against them, was pulled away he had dared a glance over his shoulder; for years to come Bilbo would often wonder, even through the magic that shielded him, if the dwarf had seen him. For a brief smile had danced upon Bofur’s lips just as he was taken completely from the hobbits sight. 

He had followed quickly and though it had taken some time, deep down in the cavernous castle of the elf king Thranduil, he’d located the prison cells and after many days of dispersing what food he could and relaying message after message, Bilbo had finally gotten the keys to free his comrades. 

Bofur was the last to be set free. 

Bilbo quickly unlocked the door and, as he pulled it open, strong calloused hands pulled him into the dark and damp cell and he immediately returned the passionate embrace that came upon him. 

“You feel feverish lad,” Bofur said concernedly, swiping damp curls from Bilbo’s forehead, “Are ye comin’ down with anything?” 

Bilbo hugged Bofur tightly about his waist and inhaled the smell of leather and earth before releasing him.

“I’m fine,” He lied, “Just overly tired is all, come on, I’ve had enough of this place.” 

Getting the dwarves to agree to get into the barrels had proven more difficult than what Bilbo had first thought it would be.

When his threat to lock them all up again didn’t seem to work, He couldn’t help but smile gratefully as Bofur quickly went about curling himself into one of the barrels.

“’s not that bad, lads!” He said with his usual jovial tone, “Besides, we’re wastin’ time and we shan’t be in these things long!”

Bilbo followed Bofur’s order for the barrel to be lidded and as he did, ignoring the sudden dizziness and nausea that flooded over him, Bilbo made an ‘x’ in the lid with one of the keys he still held so that he would know which barrel Bofur was stored in. 

When the opportunity came, with the ring shielding him from even the keen eyes of the elves, He quickly crawled atop the marked barrel as it dropped with a splash through the trap door and journeyed down the river.

His fever, Bilbo realized, was rising to such a degree that he found he couldn’t answer Bofur’s frantic questions from within. 

~~~~~~~~******~~~~~~~~~

“Bilbo!” Bofur’s face was contorted into one of absolute fear; the hobbit slumped against his chest and moaned. 

“He’s burnin’ up! He’s sick!” Bofur called over at the others who were still trying to regain their legs as they stumbled from their barrels. 

As he struggled to hold Bilbo up, Bofur insisted: “We need to get ‘im help!” 

Ready to pass out, Bilbo listened in silent annoyance as Thorin complained about the weakness of the ‘soft hobbit.’ 

“We gotta get ‘im help!” Bofur ordered, sweeping Bilbo into his arms, “Ye own him that much Thorin! Come on lads! Get those barrels together and let’s get moving!”  
~~~~~~~~******~~~~~~~~

How long he’d lost consciousness, he couldn’t be sure, but as Bilbo’s eyes fluttered open and as he struggled to focus them through the haze of his fever, he felt a warm hand settle atop his own. 

“B-Bofur?” Bilbo asked as he tried to sit up, “Where am I?” 

Bofur eased Bilbo back down and smoothed the hobbit’s matted hair; “In an Inn in the town of Esgorath,” the dwarf explained, “Or rather Lake Town as some call it. The doctor said ye’ve got the flu and need to rest.” 

“Where are the others?” Bilbo asked in dry voice, “Safe?”

Bofur, hatless and his hair unbraided, patted Bilbo’s hand lightly. 

“Aye, they’ve taken themselves to supper. Would ye believe we’ve been given quite a merry welcome? When we got here, there were Mirkwood elves dining with some arse that calls himself the master of Lake Town and at first we thought we’d be captured again! But the people vouched fer us-can ye believe it? - apparently they’re done fearing an appearance from Smaug, so we’re safe and sound fer the time being.”

Bilbo smiled softly; “Very good,” He replied, “have you eaten?” 

Bofur chuckled and held Bilbo’s hand tightly then. “I’m fine,” He assured Bilbo, “Besides; Bombur’s probably eaten enough for ther both of us. Ye should get some sleep, I’ll wake ye later to give ye yer medicine. The doctor said ye should take it every two hours.”

Bilbo sighed deeply and nodded. Bofur released his hands and soon there came a soft, soothing tune. Bofur had begun to play his flute, no doubt to ease Bilbo back into slumber. 

The hobbit listened for a long while as Bofur went through three lovely melodies that reminded him of home and childhood joys, until He slowly opened his eyes and asked: “When will we be leaving?” 

Bofur, stopping just short of continuing to serenade him, hesitated before answering reluctantly, “Just as soon as we get some more provisions and, o’ course, as soon as yer well enough.” 

Bilbo looked away from Bofur and up at the ceiling; saying nothing more and trying to ignore the deep fear that settled within him as Bofur continued to play peacefully on his flute.

~~~~~~~~******~~~~~~~~

When the time came and, not wanting to seem so cowardly, Bilbo knew and confirmed with the others that he was more than physically able to continue the journey.

It was with this information that Thorin announced the plan for the company to depart the next day at dawn and onward to the Lonely Mountain.

 

Though most were saddened that their nights of ale and celebration were soon to be taken away again, it was Bilbo who had regressed into himself due to overwhelming fear and doubt. So much so, that not even the company of Bofur could pull him from his inward lamentation. 

As the night deepened and the dwarves individually retired, Bofur entered Bilbo’s room quietly and sat upon the bed beside the hobbit. 

“Yer scared aren’t ye?” 

The question came with Bilbo expecting it; He shook his head however and refused to meet the dwarf’s eyes. 

Knowing Bofur knew he was being deceitful, Bilbo allowed Bofur to take his chin into his large hand and gently force the hobbit to look at him.

“I am,” Bofur confessed softly, “Everyone is. Even Thorin; though we know what’s waitin’ we’re not all lookin’ forward to the ~”

“We could turn back,” Bilbo suggested softly, “We could take our leave, wish the other’s luck, I’ll go where ever you want.” 

Bofur released Bilbo’s chin so that he could pull the hobbit into his lap; holding him close and kissing the top of his head he whispered: “Ye know I won’t and can’t leave Bifur or Bombur. I also know ye wouldn’t be able to fergive yer self either if ye gave up now.” 

Bilbo sighed, and with both hands, rubbed one of Bofur’s muscled arms up and down before looking into the handsome dwarf’s face.

“I don’t want you or I to die,” He confessed, unable to fight the fearful tears that welled into his eyes, “Not after…I just found you!” 

Bofur, finding no soothing answer to give, only offered Bilbo a deep kiss before saying softly: “Whatever happens, you’ll never loose me. Where ever I end up, no matter how far away ye think I am…I’m always at yer side.” 

A tear slid down Bilbo’s cheek and Bofur wiped it away with a soft, sincere smile.

“I need ye with me,” Bofur confessed after they shared another deep kiss, “Ye’ve given me strength during this whole bloody quest that I don’t think I could’ve ever found on me own. Ye stay close to me Bilbo. I’ll watch over ye, if ye can promise to watch over me and the others just the same.” 

Bilbo, biting his bottom lip for a moment and thinking, finally offered a curt nod before kissing Bofur with more passion than the dwarf had ever anticipated from the hobbit.

A kiss that was so deep and that lasted so long, the two had reclined back onto the bed and when Bilbo broke the embrace, his lips traveled to Bofur’s ear and whispered a heated request.

Bofur pulled back, observing Bilbo with concern for a moment before asking: “Are ye sure? I doubt ye’ve ever been with a dwarf and I don’t want to hurt ye. We’ve nothing to…ease our way.” 

Bilbo smiled and played with a lock of the dwarf’s unbraided wavy, dark hair. 

“We’ve done nearly everything else,” He pointed out, “Now is the best time. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Bofur broke into a giggle and after giving Bilbo quick peck on his nose, he conceded. 

“Very well,” He said, sitting up to remove his leather jerkin and long tunic, “If ye insist.” 

As he helped Bilbo out of his waist coat and long sleeved shirt, deep down the dwarf had long desired to consummate his love for the Halfling. 

An emotion, Bofur realized, he’d long carried ever since their chat in the den of Bag End all those months ago. 

Now both Shirtless, Bofur lay gently atop Bilbo and kissed him lightly again before observing the hobbit for a moment more.

“I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” He promised, “If it’s too much, ye tell me to stop.” 

Bilbo smiled and pulled Bofur’s hat from his head, placing it atop his own and making the dwarf smile brightly. 

“I doubt that will happen tonight,” Bilbo replied with grin Bofur had never seen before, “I tend to get rather feisty.”


	5. Chapter 5: Comfort & Committment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a falling out with Thorin Bilbo is banished but Bofur finds and tries to comfort Him and after a while the two contemplate their future; I have to be careful considering some haven't read the book and the other two films haven't come out so...the most I've chosen to reveal is that there is about to be a great battle Sorry, though, if that's too much of a spoiler for some. 
> 
> PS: I do enjoy the idea of some of the dwarves in the company, whom are close to him, calling Bofur 'Bo'

When Thorin had tossed him so violently to the floor that Bilbo couldn’t help but cry out in pain; his eyes quickly found Bofur and they welled with tears.

The dwarf, held at bay by both Dwalin and Bifur, stared from the Hobbit to the enraged dwarf king whom had just banished the hobbit. 

"Ye can't!" Bofur protested, "He was only doin' what he thought was right~"

"THEN JOIN HIM!" Thorin bellowed; the infuriated kings eyes narrowed and in a softer yet savage voice asked the protesting dwarf: "Or would you dare to betray me too?"

Bifur whispered desperately to his kinsman and Bofur's eyes bounced from Thorin to Bilbo as they too filled with frustrated tears.

"You can't!" Bofur continued in vain. 

HIs pride wounded and deeply humiliated, Bilbo bit his lip hoping to stop the sobs that swelled in his throat as he watched Thorin stomp toward his beloved companion and strike him hard across his face.

“Bilbo! Wait!” Bofur called out as the hobbit leapt to his large feet and hurried from the throne room. 

“Let him flee! Let the traitor run and hide in shame!” Thorin roared as he ascended the steps to the ancient throne of his kingdom; “We’ve more important matters to attend to at present!” 

With only those words coursing through his mind Bilbo had run as quickly as he could until he found himself standing among the ruins of what used to be the glorious city of Dale.

While he regained what calm composure he could, Bilbo turned and looked at the Lonely Mountain once more.

His heart ached when He recalled the last time he saw Bofur. 

Could Bofur, not trained for battle, survive the coming onslaught? And even if he did, would he be able to forgive Bilbo’s betrayal?

When it had been found out, what he had dared to do, Bilbo had looked at Bofur and saw the shock and confusion in his eyes.

Even so, Bofur had in fact called after him, but, Bilbo wondered, would the toymaker dare to risk being deemed a traitor himself if he dared to follow after him? 

Feeling more alone than he ever had before and stifling a whimper, Bilbo stumbled through the charred debris of Dale and pushed his way through startled men and elves alike until he came upon a lonely building that wasn’t too terribly dilapidated.

Finding a clean dry spot and after curling his knees to his chest and resting his head in his arms, Bilbo listened for a moment more to the soft breeze outside before allowing himself to quietly weep into sleep.

~~~~~~******~~~~~~

He wasn’t startled, honestly he was relieved, when a hand gently touched his shoulder and roused him from his sleep. He'd come to know his gentle touches very well in the time since they had laid close after making love several days ago.

In the candle light of that small room at the inn, Bilbo had relished each gentle caress and explorative touch that had caused him to sigh pleasantly or giggle. Bofur, the dwarf himself had confessed, had never beofe known such a "hairless fellow."

Even with those happy memoires, and even though he was very happy Bofur had come, Bilbo refused to lift his head.

Even though his curled body ached to be stretched, Bilbo was afraid to look into the dwarf's eyes and see what emotion they possibly held. 

“Bilbo, look at me, It’s not safe ‘ere and I’ve come to take ye back.” 

“Mmph!” Bilbo moaned, “Just leave me here.”

“I see ye’ve learned to be as stubborn as the company ye’ve kept! Well, then I’ll just stay with ye,” Bofur announced cheerfully, coming to sit beside the stubborn hobbit, “Just in case. Regardless of the elves and men that are getting ready, I doubt they’ll ‘ave time to check up on ye even if I asked.” 

Bilbo sighed and lifted his head to look at the dwarf; “I can’t go back!” He explained, “Even if the lot of you need me, I can’t! Won’t Thorin be angry?”

Bofur’s eyes grew distant and the toymaker sighed as he twisted his large mattock in his hands. “’s not the Thorin I remember,” He confessed, “He's still an arse but Balin…Balin says he’s seen another of Oakenshield’s kin act that way when there’s treasure involved…runs in his family apparently. He barely takes his eyes off of it even now! I still can’t believe it me self when he didn’t notice me sneakin’ away!”

Bilbo swallowed and stretched his aching legs; not sure of what to say or do until a single question came to his weary mind.

“Are you ashamed of me?”

Daring to finally meet his eyes, Bilbo observed a look of surprise on the dwarf’s face. Bofur set his weapon aside and turned to face the hobbit with a look of warmth and sincerity.

Leaning close Bofur whispered softly: “I agreed with ye. With what ye did I mean. I know it was for the best. For our safety…bless me! If I really think about it…ye’ve probably saved a lot of lives!” 

A small, hesitant smile came over Bilbo and very swiftly, he had sat upon his knees to hug the dwarf close to him. 

Bofur returned the tight embrace, stroking Bilbo’s back as he did.

“Come back with me,” Bofur urged softly, “I need ye there!” 

“I was banished Bo,” Bilbo protested, “Almost dropped to my death and ~” 

“I told ye it was you who had made me strong throughout out all o’ this madness,” Bofur explained as He pulled away slowly to look into Bilbo’s questioning eyes, “I asked ye to stay close to me and I promised to stay close to you. I hate to be so cruel but…ye did promise me that ye would try to stay be me side.”

Bilbo returned the soft kiss from Bofur, then another, then another, until he finally nodded; “Very well,” He conceded, “But what if…If Thorin is still angry~”

Bofur pulled Bilbo close again and let the hobbit rest his cheek upon his shoulder. “I doubt he’ll really care at the moment,” He confessed, “Not with what…or rather who is coming to his doorstep even as we speak, love.” 

Bilbo chuckled and rose while Bofur followed suit. They dusted each other’s clothing off and as Bofur went to retrieve his mattock Bilbo dared another risky question: “What, that is to say if we survive this, what will we do then?”

Bofur, leaning the mattock on his shoulder, waved a free hand dismissively; “Whatever ye want I imagine. Yer the hero.”

Bilbo guffawed and blushed, following Bofur’s gesture to depart the ramshackle shelter; “I want you with me,” He confessed as they started to go, “I love you after all.” 

Bofur startled before breaking into a wide, blushing grin. “Ye know, no one has ever said that to me before…I-uh-I love ye too.” 

Bilbo smiled at how shy Bofur had suddenly become; observing the dwarf look out from a door way to make sure it was safe, he approached slowly and took Bofur’s ungloved, calloused hand gently. 

“You know…believe it or not, we’ve no toy shop in the Shire.”

Bofur, turning to look down at Bilbo, smiled once more and squeezed the hobbit’s smaller hand.

“Aye, I noticed the last time I was there,” He confessed, “It was sad, considerin’ all the lil ones I saw runnin’ about before I came-well-fell into yer home. Maybe I’ll be able to remedy that.”

Bilbo, even though he could hear the great hoard of men and elves beginning to rally, beamed broadly and allowed Bofur to quickly kiss him. 

“Come on!” Bofur urged, tugging Bilbo out of the burned building, “We gotta get back!”


	6. Chapter 6: Saying Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well Crud...now I have more idea for this story....Any ways, Here's the ending...so far.

When he’d awaken, though he was dizzy and found his head bandaged, Bilbo still slowly sat up and surveyed his surroundings. 

“Easy now,” Said a voice to his right, “The physicians think you've got a concussion laddie.”

Balin, seated in a chair, smiled dryly at the hobbit and rubbed his bound arm.

“Ye seem to always get hit in the head with blunt objects, Bilbo!” Balin observed, “Luckily for you, this time it didn’t kill ye.” 

Bilbo moaned and looked at the several dwarves, elves, and men that were laid upon cots like his own; all with varying injuries.

“How…w-where is everyone else?” he asked, “Everyone else from our company that is?”

Bilbo gasped loudly so suddenly that the old dwarf lord startled and balled his free fist defensively.

“Bofur!” Bilbo cried as he began trying to rise to his feet, “Oh, my Bofur…where is he?”

Though his left arm was shattered and bound, Balin still with as much gentle force as he could manage pushed the panicked hobbit back onto the cot. 

“Calm yer self,” Balin advised taking his seat again, “He lives. Though he’s bruised and beaten, the most he got was a nasty gash to his cheek. He…He is with Bifur in another area, Bombur is with them too. Their kinsman is not long for the world I’m afraid. 

I know ye want to be with him, yer…Bofur, I mean, but honor our ways. Those who are not dwarves aren’t privy to sit with our dying. Only their relatives and comrades may do so. Besides, I'm sure he'll be along shortly."

Bilbo sighed and swung his feet from the cot to sit up; He bowed his head as He remembered the many tales Bofur had shared with him about his youth in Ered Luin and how, after their own father had fallen in Moria, Bifur had raised Bofur and Bombur and also taught Bofur his skills as a toymaker.

“How…how many? How many have we, you, lost?” 

Balin closed his eyes tightly and rubbed his aching arm; “Too many,” He replied, “Many of the Iron Hills army fell. Many men, many elves and…”

Balin’s voice broke and tears fell from his eyes; Bilbo gasped softly and he felt his throat tighten and his eyes prick with the promise of tears.

Balin slowly bowed his head and emitted a long shaky sigh as he wept softly; Tears fell from Bilbo’s eyes as well. But for whom he wept, He could not be certain.

For a long while, the two of them sat in deep and silent grief before the one whom Bilbo had been waiting for and was quite worried about, made his appearance slowly while looking horribly exhausted.

“My love,” Bilbo offered very softly as Bofur came and kneeled before him, matted with dirt and blood, his cheeks were streaked with the shadow of many tears.

Sighing Bofur looked slowly up at Bilbo; His eyes filled with fresh grief yet Bilbo didn’t hesitate and before Bofur could say or do anything, the hobbit took him into his arms and let the dwarf weep heavily against his shoulder.

Bilbo knew what it was that caused Bofur to grieve so heavily, for certain, when he observed Bombur behind the two of them for the massive dwarf shook with violent sobs and his beard was wet from tears of his own.

Bifur had died; Bilbo kissed the side of Bofur’s head as he held him quietly until the dwarf at last pulled away with a sniffle.

As he let Bilbo wipe the wetness from his face, Bofur explained softly: “Thorin…Thorin asked me to fetch ye. He wants to speak with ye.” 

Bilbo shushed Bofur and wiped his fallen tears, carefully avoiding the stitches in the dwarf’s left cheek, away before kissing each him tenderly. “I cannot leave you so soon,” He confessed as he held the dwarf’s face in his small hands, “Not now when I need to look after you.”

Bofur smirked and nodded; “Aye,” He agreed softly, “But we have all the time in the world to care for each now. But ye have to fulfill your duty to the King first. Come on, I’ll go with ye.” 

As he helped Bilbo to his feet, Bofur had to catch the weakened hobbit as he swayed dramatically and slumped against his broad chest.

“Oh…well, perhaps ye should rest,” Bofur advised, “Wait until~”

“N-no,” Bilbo protested, “You’re right…if he’s asked for me, I must go.” 

Bofur hesitated but, as an idea came to mind, he quickly swept Bilbo up into his arms, ignoring the curious gazes of the injured that watched him carry the hobbit out of the large pergola.

“I’m afraid,” Bilbo confessed as Bofur maneuvered their way to the tent where Thorin waited, “What shall I say?”

Bofur held Bilbo closer and whispered: “Let ‘im talk…ye know how he likes doin’ tha’!” 

Though he didn’t want to at first, a smile graced Bilbo’s lips and he kissed Bofur just beneath his ear. 

“Will you stay?” Bilbo asked as they came to Thorin’s place, “I mean wait for me? I…don’t know what I’ll do if he…..” But the hobbit found he couldn’t finish his words and with a sigh, nuzzled into Bofur’s neck.

After a moment, Bofur gently set Bilbo on his feet and straightened his clothing

Giving the hobbit a gentle kiss, Bofur urged him onward and he watched as Bilbo took a deep breath and entered the place where Thorin Oakenshield awaited him. 

~~~~~~******~~~~~~

After he had taken his final breath, Bilbo slowly exited the tent yet quickly found his way into Bofur’s arms.

The two of them wept softly against one another for many moments until Balin approached them from behind where they stood grieving quietly. 

As they broke their embrace and observed the old dwarf lord, Balin gave them a soft smile; “Ye know he thought the two of you complimented each other rather well,” He explained, and Balin chuckled at seeing their surprised faces.

“And why not?” Balin said as he followed a group of dwarves into the tent to help prepare the king for burial, “A tutor and a toymaker? I must say even I can see that it is quite a good match!”

With that the old dwarf lord disappeared into the tent and left the two in silence; Bofur smiled softly at Bilbo and shrugged: “I guess we’re a bit transparent, eh?”

Bilbo blushed yet couldn’t help but chuckle even with all the death and devastation that lay so openly and cruelly before him. 

Bofur traced a finger down Bilbo’s cheek, getting the hobbits attention, and then took Bilbo’s hand in his own. 

“I’m glad Yer alright,” He confessed, “Even with Bifur…I-I’m glad I didn’t loose you too.” 

Bilbo sighed and wrapped his arm around Bofur’s waist, hugging him to his side; “Me too,” He replied, “I’m so glad I get to keep you.” 

Bofur smiled, bowed and kissed Bilbo deeply for a few moments, before pulling away and asking: “So ye want me to go back with ye then? To Bag End and the Shire?”

Bilbo nodded; “Of course I do,” He said, “That is…if you want to. You do want to don’t you?” 

Bofur squeezed his hand and smiled again; “With that pantry of yours, you better believe I do!” 

~~~~~~******~~~~~~

When he’d spied the lone pony meant for him, while Gandalf waited upon his own horse beside the smaller creature, Bilbo’s heart sank deeply.

‘No!’ He though desperately, ‘He promised me!”

It had been some time but, days earlier Bilbo was glad to finally know that this morning he would be allowed to begin the journey home. 

In their thrown-together room within Erebor, He and Bofur and talked late into the night about what they would do when they returned to the peace and beauty of Bilbo’s home.

Bofur would use the wealth of his agreed upon treasure to set up shop and begin making toys for the children that abounded the shire while Bilbo would continue his works as a teacher. All the while the two of them would live in domestic bliss.

Now, with no other pony saddled and loaded with whatever belongings he would have brought in sight, all of that seemed shattered.

“Bilbo?” 

Bilbo spun and found him standing there, dark circles under eyes that were heavier with grief now than when He’d come to the hobbit after his beloved cousin had answered the call into the afterlife. 

“Don’t!” Bilbo spat, “Don’t you dare tell me you’ve changed your bloody mind! Not now!” 

Bofur hurried forward and though he’d struggled at first, Bilbo uttered an angry yelp and punched the dwarf lightly in the shoulder before allowing himself to be held closely by his partner of the past many months.

“I-love-you!” Bofur declared sternly, “I haven’t and won’t change me mind about livin’ with ye in the shire! It’s what I want but Dain’s requested I stay behind to help rebuild Erebor for a time. Also Bombur’s wife and children will come along not far from now and I’ll need to help them settle in.”

Bilbo fought back the tears and gripped the sleeves of Bofur’s tunic tightly with trembling hands; “Then I’ll stay!” Bilbo insisted looking up as he did, ignoring the shake of Bofur’s head, “I’ll stay and help!” 

“Ye can’t!” Bofur protested, “Oh Bilbo! I would love fer ye to stay with me here, for now, but ye’ve no skills that are required for what has to happen here. It won’t be long, I swear, you’ll see! Ye need to head back now and try and get ready fer when I do come.” 

Bilbo wrapped his arms around Bofur’s waist and held him so tightly; Bofur was surprised to feel his ribs begin to ache.

“What if something happens to you?” Bilbo inquired, tears running down his cheeks, “What if I never see you again?”

Bofur pried Bilbo’s arms from his waist and forced the hobbit to look up at him then; His hazel eyes were soft but serious and he started to speak but stopped short.

His hands went to his decorated ear lobe and pulled loose his old ornament that he’d worn even before he’d come of age long ago.

“Here,” He ordered as he placed the trinket into one of the distraught hobbit’s hand, “Ye keep this safe; I’ll be back for it. It was my father’s and I want ye to hold on to it until I come back for it and you.” 

Bilbo sniffled, looked at the earring for a moment, and then back up at Bofur as he wrapped his fingers around the silver capped fang.

Even with other’s around them and Gandalf growing impatient and uncomfortable, Bilbo jumped up onto Bofur; wrapping his legs around the startled dwarf’s waist, the hobbit kissed him deeply while his lover returned his sudden embrace with equal fervor. 

Clasping the earring in his fist, with his legs still wrapped firmly around the dwarf, Bilbo allowed Bofur to carry him to the waiting pony as the toymaker whispered many promises to him fervently.

“We really should get going,” Gandalf encouraged gently as Bofur set Bilbo down, “The two of you are drawing quite a crowd.” 

The hobbit and dwarf looked at Gandalf then at the small crowd standing behind them before looking at each other and bursting into laughter.

Hugging each other tightly and for a long moment, Bofur helped Bilbo onto his pony, his hand caressing down the hobbits muscled calf for a moment, before he stepped back and offered Bilbo a small, soft smile. 

“It won’t be long,” Bofur promised with tears in his eyes, “You’ll see. I’ll be home shortly.” 

As Gandalf turned his horse and proceeded to trot away Bilbo stayed, still atop his pony, and leaned his hand down; his fingers once more tracing the whiskers of Bofur’s chin.

“I hope so,” He replied softly, “I can’t wait to have another late night conversation with you.”


End file.
